


Paramour

by aronnaxs



Series: 30 Fic NSFW Challenge [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge, Incest, M/M, naked kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aronnaxs/pseuds/aronnaxs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas sometimes thinks he is a thief in the night, stealing away his and his father's fates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paramour

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this is Day 2 of my 30 Fic NSFW Challenge - Naked Kissing.
> 
> Hope you enjoy c:

He should not be here. 

If any other crept into these chambers without permission, they would be banished to the depths of the dungeons. Every step he takes is taboo. Every corridor he passes through is forbidden. And he knows it. 

But in the grand scheme of Arda, it is not this trespassing which will condemn him. It is what lies at the end of this immoral route.

His entire body is tight with anticipation as he walks, oh so carefully, through these halls. Already he is close to his destination. Maybe he has been hurrying without realising it. It would not surprise him. What he seeks out is irresistible. A treacherous indulgence that he can no longer deny himself. 

He knows his way around this cavernous area of the palace even better than his own private quarters. He knows where each and every guard is, each and every room, each and every creaking door. There is a diversion around all hindrances - secret passages cutting through the walls, hidden entrances, shortcuts to the centre of his desire. Nothing can stop him getting what he - what they both - want.

Moonlight spills across the floor in front of him. Silver ribbons stretch towards his feet, binding them, pulling him further and further into this labyrinth. The door he has travelled all over the fortress for is suddenly right there. It has been left slightly open, tantalisingly revealing hints of the room beyond. Legolas' legs tremble even as he hastens towards it.

He fits perfectly through the gap, almost as if it has been left there for him. He slips in quietly, heart hammering, like a thief in the night. Sometimes he thinks that is what he is, stealing away his and his father's fates. But he has come too far now. They both have. And the poisoned water they drink tastes so sweet, so addictive...

Though he knows the opulent space intimately, his eyes eagerly rove around it, as they always do. The scent and alluring embrace of decadence envelops him immediately. Lush fabrics and intricately carved furniture pieces surround the room, every one decorated with the same swirling, antler motif. All about the walls, enchanting, colourful flowers are displayed in glass cases. Pillars stand at the four corners, seeming almost as though the forest has entered into the very palace. It never falls to take Legolas' breath away.

But it is nothing compared to the vision that lays upon the luxurious bed. 

The prince feels the flame of his need suddenly rage into an inferno. Thranduil - his obsession, his sin, his paramour - lounges upon the silken sheets, starlight spilling onto his beautiful form. Every plane of porcelain skin is revealed, not an inch left to the imagination. Not that Legolas has to imagine. He has explored and touched and kissed this body in immoral delight far more times than he can count. He knows each curve, each powerful muscle, each sensitive spot... Thranduil is like an idol fit to be worshipped.

He trembles as he looks upon him. His father sleeps with a serene smile upon his face, almost as if he knows the temptation he incites in Legolas. Of course he does. Legolas does this almost every night and Thranduil embraces it earnestly. In the darkness, they can hide their secrets, can ignore the brutal destiny their actions should bring upon them.

Legolas cannot bare to be away from him any longer. In seconds, he throws off his light night robe and manoeuvres himself hastily out of too-tight leggings. The bed barely moves as he crawls onto it. His fingers itch to skim and dip all over Thranduil's body, the warmth radiating off him like a welcoming fire in the depths of winter. But he resists it for a moment more, needing to see the expression on the king's face as he wakes up to his presence.

It is undoubtably one of the most exquisite sights Legolas has the pleasure of viewing. Those beautiful cerulean eyes are touched with a glimmer of haze to begin with, still somewhere in dreams. But then they drink in who lies before them and the glimmer of haze is replaced with a glimmer of satisfaction. That teasing smirk widens. The blaze only burns even higher within Legolas.

He throws himself into his father's arms without a second thought. Their mouths collide and if Thranduil is shocked, he does not show it. Elegant hands wind around his hips, nails biting slightly into the sensitive skin. Legolas squirms at even the smallest of touches. If it is possible, he pushes himself even further into the hot embrace. His arousal, aching with desire for so long, presses against Thranduil's stomach. A moan escapes his lips.

Thranduil is still grinning when he pulls away for want of air. But it is hard to breathe when the king's leg has already slipped between his trembling thighs, rubbing in maddening circles. "You are late," he whispers, lips brushing against his ear. The sound of his voice sparks a shiver down Legolas' spine. He groans and tries to form words to respond but Thranduil is already kissing him again. 

He has not shared many intimate encounters with others before and would consider his experience limited, but he is certain that no one kisses as skilfully as Thranduil. His father has a mouth which would lay low even the strongest of men and women. Now he claims Legolas with the intensity of a forest fire. The prince can only whimper as their lips and tongues slide along one another in a treacherous dance. This is what he craves, this is what he sneaks through the entire palace for, this is the antidote to all his troubles and the poison too...

But Legolas lets it seep into his veins with a shivering pleasure. Thranduil's fingers curl into his hair for a moment, directing his movements, then they slide down his back, tracing a path full of promise and anticipation. It only takes a glancing touch of those digits against his cleft and Legolas is shuddering, clinging to Thranduil with desperate fists. He can barely stop himself from rutting shamelessly against his smooth thigh. Still they continue to kiss, the king swallowing all of his prince's increasing moans.

Legolas realises with a sharp ache that he will not last much longer. All of his pining for Thranduil is building towards an uncontrollable crescendo, the binds drawing tighter and tighter about his stomach. For an instant they break apart before Thranduil pins him down upon the bedding, smothering his mouth once more. Legolas' eyes roll back. He tries to thrust up against the magnificent body above him but Thranduil is, as always, one step ahead. A strong hand wraps around his erection, squeezing ever so slightly. It does not even take three strokes until Legolas is nigh on screaming, the sound caught between their lips. White light bursts all around him. He is clinging on to his father for what seems like dear life. The intense pleasure that only Thranduil can give him crashes over him in intense waves.

At last, the tremors fade. This time, it is he who awakes to Thranduil's presence, lingering above him with that same smirk on his face. He tries to apologise for his eagerness but the king silences him with another kiss upon bruised lips. 

"You always astound me with your keenness, meleth-nîn," he breathes sinfully. "But, even though you are late to my chambers, we still have all night to reawaken it."

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Meleth-nîn - my love
> 
> Feedback is always welcome :)


End file.
